Submerged
by okh-eshivar
Summary: Action Tragedy. "It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He wasn’t supposed to win. We were supposed to win. This can’t be happening." What would happen if Aizen were to win and Nanao was the last one standing. Her futile war.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes**: Okay, so I've been thinking, it seems like everyone is kind of assuming that Soul Society is going to win against Aizen, and granted there wouldn't be much of a story if they didn't, but imagine _if_ they didn't…? I don't know, it just seemed kind of interesting…I'm not really sure who is rushing Nanao, so just keep in mind that they look pretty much human and they are relatively powerful, but Nanao's angry and full of adrenaline. Inspired by a story from a Kabuki comic. Enjoy and comment!!!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. He wasn't supposed to win. _We_ were supposed to win. This can't be happening. They're coming after me. All of them that survived the fatal clash are rushing towards me in one last wave. They come closer with every step, closer than they were a second ago, closer, closer, closer.

"Captain! Wake up!"

No breath. No response. I feel the butterfly wings of his life thrash around, then settle to a slow stutter. Closer. Closer. I spend my last couple of seconds performing CPR, the blunt force of my fist against his chest nearly breaking his ribs. Nothing. They're rushing me all at once, their semi-synchronized footsteps thunder like the heartbeat of god; a rhythm I still can't find in the captain. This is all wrong. It's all happening backwards. Behind my back, I grip my zanpakutou.

Meh, more like a prelude, but still… Comment ;3? Next chappie to come soon!

**Preview**: _Their hands become grappling hooks as they dig deep into my flared arms, pulling me in. I try to fight back, but it's too much…I am pulled beneath the waves in a sea of razors. I don't want to die here. I can't die here. Kyoraku- taichou… He is lying still, lost in oblivion, gone to me forever as far as I can tell. It's too much. I feel as if I'm drowning… _


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes**: Hey there everyone! Thanks for reading chapter 2 of Submerged. I want to give a shout out to Ruler of Destiny (that is a truly bright side indeed^^), D (I'll try my best!), KyourakuZelda (I know, this story depressed me too), JenovaJuice97 (thank you, BTW I'm a fan!), darkange1910 (thank you for all your reviews^^ they make me smile), sesshomarulova7 (thanks for your support! Sesshomaru ROCKS!!) and everyone else who is kind enough to review!!! Your helpful and encouraging words give me the will to continue!!!

Anyway, I got a lot of requests regarding Shunsui's current, ehm, _status_. I don't know, guys! I'm kinda writing as it comes! The situation is already a little…tight… I'll do my best to avoid…um… Ah hell. I have no idea where this is going. The only advice I can give all you hopefuls out there is hang tight and enjoy the show.

**Disclaimer**: Bleach is not mine.

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No good. Broken. I leave it behind, and cut through the seething mass of angry faces. They are angry. They are vast and mad, deathless and angry. My moves are as precise as choreographed dance steps.

Dance of death.

The first one tries to ground me, but my reistu-charged fist connects with his abdomen and throws him backwards. His head collides with the ground, resonating across the battlefield as a deep thud. He is struggling to get back on his feet when I kick a deep gash above his right eye and blind him with a Level 5 spell. He is finished with a swift, calculated shaft of impaling light. It slices through his chest and forces crimson life from the ragged, fatal gash. Dripping. I admire the amount of blood on my hands. Another jumps me from behind. I throw my leg out and spin, slamming my knee into his chin, feeling his jaw crack under sheer muscle, and watch as gravity drops him for me. I trip the one coming at my right by sliding my ankle across the ground, catching his feet, and pulling up, taking his legs with me. A punch thrown from the left flies at me with malicious intent. Instinct takes over. My forearm, charged with deathly electricity, snaps to the side to deflect, displacing the eight tiny bones in his wrist. He stumbles backwards in confusion and pain and is screaming for help when I crush his windpipe. He gets out three-quarters of a yell that sputters to a soft rattle. Another stumbles crudely towards me. I slide to the left and ram my elbow into his spinal column and force the breath from his lungs. They are lost in the flurry of my arms and legs. They are angry, I am furious. They are fast, I am faster.

I am the words of a epiphanic philosopher. I am the breath in your lungs. I am everywhere, all at once. Unstoppable and imminent, like time. I am poetry in motion. But it's the kind of poetry with bad grammar and comma splices, drop-off phrases and contradictions, run-on sentences and punctuation errors. Quick words. Dangerous calligraphy. The last one goes down like a crimson butterfly, flitting its wings futilely in the wind before wilting.

When a dove breaks its wings it loses its will to live, and dies promptly.

My hands are dripping red, and my ink is running dry. I won't die here. I can't die here. I don't want to die here.

I don't want to die.

Behind me, a faint, beating rhythm arises and rapidly grows louder. My first thought is that Kyoraku Taichou is alive. When I turn around his body is still lying motionless on the ground, unresponsive as before.

No.

No No No.

More now, their footsteps closing in around me like a flooding ocean.

No, please no…I can't do this anymore…My pen will not write any longer; its ink has run out, and I cannot bring it back no matter how much I try to revive it. Just broken, scratchy lines. My actions become sloppy, and my guard poorly crumbles.

Another violent ocean of angry faces and sharp fists and painful weapons sweeps over me. Their hands become grappling hooks as they dig deep into my flared arms, pulling me in. I try to fight them back, but it's too much. No use. I catch one final glimpse of the body of my charming, my beautiful, my flamboyant captain, lying still in the gentle grasp of oblivion. When a dove breaks its wings it loses its will to live, and dies promptly.

I am pulled beneath the waves in a sea of razors.

Submerged, I drown.

OoOoO—oOoOo---OoOoO---oOoOo

**A/N**: I may or may not add one more chapter to this. I don't know. Perhaps if I get enough requests to do so…. Anyway, please please comment and share your thoughts!


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